A plain of make believe

There are marks down her arms

Scars where the skin used to be

Her wrists don’t work anymore

She is bruised


The pain is beyond anything she knows

She is lost


Her voice won’t breach the church walls

She calls for God

But her ears have gone deaf

She can’t here his voice telling her to rest

She begs

And pleads

But no one hears her call

Her voice won’t reach

She is dying

She is the wounded child

The forgotten daughter

The abused lover

She is the broken

Into pieces no longer resembling a soul

Her heart breaks as she screams her last good bye

Before she closes her eyes

A hand reaches out and holds her close

She is barely breathing

Only hope holds her here

A soul yet decease


She lingers still

On the plain of make believe

Forever suspended in the uncertainty that hope brings

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